


Songbird

by anisstaranise



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-29
Updated: 2014-09-29
Packaged: 2018-02-19 05:30:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2376560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anisstaranise/pseuds/anisstaranise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine and Sebastian spend their day off together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Songbird

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I've written in years. It was inspired by [The Guy in 6B](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1722293?view_adult=true) by [McCall](blainesebastian.tumblr.com). I fell in love with the Pittsburgh in her fic and this story took shape in my mind.
> 
> Special thanks to McCall for reading my first draft, for her wonderful comments and edits. I cannot thank you enough, you beautiful soul, you.

 

The melodies of chirping birds and flutters of flapping wings filled the quiet around them. Blaine leaned back into the bench and tilted his head up to the sky and closed his eyes, enjoying the peace. Heartbeats passed in contentment and he only opened his eyes when he could feel Sebastian’s eyes on him, tracing his every curves and contours.

“You do know it’s rude to stare, right?” Blaine said, head still tilted to the sky, eyes darting from one bird to another that had flown nearby.

“On the contrary,” Sebastian breathed as he moved closer to Blaine. “I am entitled to stare at my husband whenever, wherever.”

Blaine smiled at the amount of affection in Sebastian’s voice. This was the boy he had met in college who self-professed to being appalled by commitment, shamelessly admitting to a string of one-night-stands.

And then they had started dating. It was one of those things that happened suddenly. Magically. Wonderfully. Everything matched. Every piece of them falling into place. Into each other. If Blaine hadn’t met Sebastian during his anti-commitment “phase” he’d never believe it because the man before him was now completely, utterly committed to and in love with _him_.

They had gotten married a few years later while on vacation in New York. Some say it was rushed, but to them it was something that was _natural_ , something a long time coming. A spontaneous proposal in Central Park, then a trip to City Hall; and it was official. Sudden? Yes. Romantic? Absolutely. But rushed? Definitely not.

And now, two years later- they were ready for the next step.

“You know,” Sebastian said, pulling Blaine out of reminiscing. “We still haven’t picked a name yet.”

Blaine smiled, turning to look at his husband. His sights were met with piercing green eyes, soft and loving. Sebastian’s brown hair kept short and swept to the side, a genuine small smile playing on his lips, a light sheen of sweat on his hairline, his neck. _God, was he gorgeous_ , Blaine thought to himself.

“You keep rejecting all the names on my list," he finally said, pouting playfully.

Sebastian rolled his eyes and snorted.

“We are not calling our son or daughter Phoenix!” Sebastian said with such finality yet without any malice or heat, to which Blaine easily countered, “And we are not calling him or her Stormageddon, no matter how much we love _Doctor Who_.”

That was why they were there, at the National Aviary, on a beautiful Pittsburgh spring day. A babymoon. Of sorts. The surrogate mother of their child was at 38 weeks and in two weeks, they would be welcoming their baby. Neither of them wanted to know the baby’s gender, opting for a good old fashioned “surprise” in the delivery room.

Sebastian and Blaine had started their day at The Andy Warhol Museum, lazing about the floors of the museum, getting lost in the paintings. Then they had taken a stroll down to North Shore Riverfront Park, to the Water Steps- where they had ended up after their first date- talking, reminiscing, and enjoying each other’s company.

For some reason, instead of turning back to their car which they had left at the Andy Warhol Museum, they had walked onwards, leaving the Water Steps, to the National Aviary. And that was where they had been sitting for the past half hour, enjoying the present while making plans for the future amidst the carefree swooping of colourful birds.

Blaine leaned in to kiss Sebastian- a chaste, reassuring kiss. When he pulled back, there was a hint of worry in Sebastian’s eyes. Blaine cupped the side of Sebastian’s face and lightly stroked his cheekbone to dispel any and all uncertainty.

“We still have time to review our list of names, yeah? Don’t worry.”

Sebastian nodded slowly, turning his head slightly to kiss Blaine’s palm.

Blaine knew Sebastian’s worries ran deeper than just picking out a name. His husband had been plagued with doubts the moment they had decided to use Sebastian as a donor for their child rather than Blaine.

 _“I don’t want our child to end up with my asshole gene,"_ he had said, one day after an antenatal appointment at hospital.

There was a time when even Blaine thought Sebastian was a self-serving asshole, all sharp-tongued and crass comments. That, however, was a lifetime ago.

Once he had gotten acquainted with Sebastian, Blaine realized that the “asshole” factor was a mask, a facade; one Sebastian thought was necessary as a defence mechanism against hurt and heartbreak. And when the walls were down and layers peeled, he was loving, passionate, empathetic. Blaine was extremely honoured and awed that _he_ was the one Sebastian had trusted to be this vulnerable person with. Loving Sebastian was the easiest thing, Blaine’s second nature.

Blaine had easily countered, “ _Being an_ asshole _isn’t genetic. It’s a choice. And you’ve chosen to be a better man, the best man, discarding whatever asshole-ness you once claimed to have._ ”

That had made Sebastian smile.

“ _Besides_ ,” Blaine had quickly added, “ _With a father like you, he or she will be the most loved little baby in the universe_.”

After another kiss, this time longer, lingering, maybe a little bit sloppy (the way Blaine knew would drive Sebastian crazy with want), Blaine slumped back on the bench, his back slotted perfectly under the nook of Sebastian’s arm that was outstretched over the back of the bench.

“Tease”, Sebastian breathed, nuzzling Blaine’s ear, before pulling away and letting his head hang back to enjoy the sounds.

Blaine mimicked his husband, and tilted his head up to the sky again, sighing happily.

A flutter of fuzzy brown and a melodic song caught Blaine’s attention. A familiar short-winged brown bird hopped happily nearby. It seemed out of place yet very much at home in the aviary. Although a native of western Pennsylvania, Blaine had read that this particular bird was not kept at the National Aviary- and yet, there it was; bobbing happily, then flying up before settling on another branch, all the while singing its rich, bubbly song.

Blaine mused that the brown bird may have weaselled its way into the aviary somehow, where it felt it belonged. Much like how out-of-place Sebastian had been when they met, and had eventually (and romantically) weaselled his way into Blaine’s heart; where he belonged.

His thoughts were interrupted by the buzzing of Sebastian’s cellphone. He turned to look at Sebastian, eyebrows arched, questioning _Who could that be? It’s our day off._ Sebastian shrugged and answered, voice rather irritated.

“Hello?”

Blaine saw the irk fade, replace by confusion.

“Yes, this is he.” A pause as Sebastian listened intently. “What?” An unmistakable panic evident in his voice.

He looked at Blaine, eyes wide. Blaine squirmed, an extension of Sebastian’s worry.

“Ok. Ok. We’ll be right there.”

Sebastian was already on his feet and tugging at Blaine to follow him. Before Blaine could say anything, Sebastian said in a low voice, “We need to get to the hospital.”

They passed by a hummingbird, hovering by a flower, the rapid fluttering of its wings rivalled only with how fast Blaine’s heart was beating.

___

They arrived at the General Hospital some 12 minutes later (Blaine checked), walking as fast as their feet could take them. Sebastian argued that to backtrack to their car at The Andy Warhol Museum would waste precious time since the hospital was in a reasonable walking distance.

The call Sebastian had received was from one of the nursing staff at the hospital, informing them that their child’s surrogate mother, Clara, was in labour and due to some complications, is being prepped for an emergency C-section.

Apparently, Clara had been having contractions from the night before and somehow had developed a fever along the way. Due to the fever, the doctor said the baby’s heart rate was too fast and was stressed. Accompanied by the fact that Clara’s contractions were very close together but was not dilating more than 1.2 inches since the start of her labour, the doctor opted for the emergency surgery. They feared the baby might suffocate if they didn’t do it soon.

Sebastian and Blaine both walked in silence to the waiting area on the same level as the Operating Theatre, hearts heavy with worry for both Clara and their child. They both had come to love Clara, her bubbly personality, her intelligence, her compassion and her wit and most of all, for Blaine, that she could stand toe-to-toe with Sebastian and _win_ the argument. She was family now. And it was killing them to not know what was going on.

Because of Clara’s fever, she would have to undergo surgery under general anaesthesia and neither Sebastian nor Blaine were permitted to be in the OT.

The minutes ticked by. Sebastian was quiet, drawn into himself. He was bent forward, hands together, elbows on his knee, shoulders slumped, head hanging forward. He looked defeated, Blaine thought. He wanted to comfort his husband, but he was a mess himself. He didn’t know what to say. His right foot wouldn’t stop tapping, like it had a mind of its own. Blaine tried to think about other things, to replay their day of just strolling on their planned babymoon; from The Andy Warhol Museum, to the Water Steps and eventually the Aviary.

The thought of the aviary jumped Blaine’s brain to the dreaded phone call and now all he can think about is an unconscious Clara, lying in the cold OT and the unknown fate of their baby. Blaine had read that skin-to-skin contact with the parents once the baby is born was important; that it helped the transition from fetal to newborn, to help reduce the baby’s stress of being yanked from the only home he or she had ever known and into this bright new world.

Before this ordeal, Clara had given permission to both Blaine and Sebastian to be in the delivery room in anticipation of the skin-to-skin after birth. But now that they weren't allowed to be in the OT when the baby was born, that plan was out the window. Blaine could feel a little bit of his heart crushing at the thought.

Panic was starting to bubble up Blaine’s throat as an hour and a half passed with no news from the hospital staff. Every sound was too loud yet unfocused to Blaine’s ears. He felt like breaking down at any moment, when a gentle touch of Sebastian’s hand on his shoulder helped keep him grounded. Sebastian took Blaine’s hand and laced their fingers together, not saying a word but saying everything that mattered with just a squeeze of the hand.

A slow shuffling of feet was heard coming down the hall. “Misters Anderson-Smythe?” a woman’s voice inquired. Both Blaine and Sebastian sprang up from their seats, fingers still entwined.

“How is Clara? Is she ok? And our baby?”

Questions rapidly tumbling out of Blaine. Sebastian tightened his grip, silent, knowing that Blaine had already asked everything he wanted to voice.

The woman standing before them smiled, her blue eyes soft and comforting. She introduced herself as the surgeon who had performed the C-section on Clara and that both Clara and their baby were fine. She informed that Clara was still asleep from the anaesthetics and wwould probably be another half hour or so before they would wake her up.

“We found out that Clara has Group B streptococcus which could be the cause of her fever during labour.”

The confusion combined with dismay on Blaine and Sebastian’s faces must’ve been apparent because the doctor smiled again and reassured them there is nothing to worry about.

“Group B streptococcus is a common bacteria found in women and usually we won’t know if the mother has this bacteria until the third trimester, which was why Clara’s obstetrician ordered the lab test during her previous antenatal check up last week. The concern with Group B streptococcus is not the mother but generally the baby.”

Blaine gasped so loudly that the sound bounced off the waiting room walls. He could feel Sebastian tense up next to him.

“It’s a good thing that we had the C-section because without passing the birth canal, your baby may not have been exposed to the bacteria. However, we would like to keep her in the NICU for a couple of days, just to monitor her progress, see if there are any symptoms of an infection.”

Blaine froze. So much information to process yet his brain was only clinging to one; an important one. He looked at Sebastian, who turned to meet his eyes, the greens sparkling. He knew his husband was clinging on to that same information. Blaine’s eyes started tearing and he wanted to speak, but couldn’t. It was Sebastian who managed to speak, voice cracking yet filled with so much affection.

“Her?”

The doctor smiled that wonderful smile of hers again.

“Yes. Congratulations. You have a daughter.”

\---

A nurse took them to the NICU after Blaine and Sebastian were done consulting with the surgeon. The temperature was considerably lower in the NICU than it was in the waiting room but that was not the reason why Blaine was shaking as they walked down a narrow hallway, passing through a secured door. He was shaking with nervous excitement. Elated, nervous excitement.

They were about to meet their daughter.

Sebastian was nervous too, Blaine could tell; his palm sweaty as it rests in Blaine’s hand, even in such a cold room. He gave his husband’s hand a gentle _I’m here_ squeeze as they walked pass beeping machines and tiny, sleeping babies- some in incubators, some in a cot under the glow of bluish-purple UV lamps.

The nurse led them straight to an open cot towards the corner of the NICU, where a tiny, slightly-wiggling creature was swaddled in pink blanket, her head topped with a tiny white baby beanie. Blaine could feel his chest swell, getting bigger than his body.

“Here she is," the nurse said as she lifted the baby gently.

Blaine heard Sebastian gasp. He let go of Blaine’s hands for the first time since they held on and walked slowly, cautiously towards the nurse and the baby.

“May I?” he breathed ever so quietly, and the nurse carefully placed the precious little cargo into Sebastian’s arms.

Sebastian was a natural, Blaine thought the moment their daughter was in his arms. He looked on as his husband started oscillating gently, muttering a soft “Hey you” down at the bundle of pink, smiling a smile that was new to Blaine. A smile born from tremendous love for this other person. A smile, Blaine gathered, mirrored the one creeping on his lips; a smile of parenthood.

Blaine could burst with happiness at that moment. He closed the space between them, pressing his side to Sebastian’s, his hand resting on his husband’s back and the other reached to stroke lightly at the baby’s covered head.

They both looked down at their sleeping daughter in silence; no words could ever describe how perfect she is. A happy tear trailed down Blaine’s cheek as he turned to look up at Sebastian, whose piercing green eyes were glazed with happy tears, too- the smile on his face so bright.

“What are we going to call her?” Sebastian asked in a whisper.

Blaine looked down at their daughter again and as though she knew her fathers were talking about her, she opened her eyes. A new wave of love and awe and admiration hit Blaine square in the chest, almost knocking the air out of him. He felt Sebastian’s body quiver slightly; the sharp intake of breath from Sebastian was an indication that he must’ve been hit by that wave too.

They were looking down into emerald eyes- the same piercing quality as Sebastian’s green yet a gleam entirely her own. A bubbly, melodic coo escaped those tiny pink lips.

The sound transported Blaine back to the Aviary somehow. To that little short-winged brown bird with the rich, bubbly song. The bird so out of place amongst the resident birds of the aviary but so at home. It was meant to be there, it belonged there.

Just like her, Blaine thought, seemingly out of place (in the eyes of a narrow-minded world) in a home with two fathers- yet that is exactly where she belongs.

Blaine kept that image of the brown, singing bird in his head and continued to gaze at his daughter. Then, everything fell into place.

“Wren.” Blaine whispered.

Sebastian looked at Blaine, his eyes smiling. He nodded and echoed the whisper. “Wren.”

The sound, the name, coming off Sebastian’s lips and his own was perfect.

She was perfect.

“Our little songbird.”

\--END--

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.
> 
> Just a footnote: this [Pittsburgh Post Gazette article](http://www.post-gazette.com/news/science/2012/06/13/Let-s-Talk-About-Birds-Wrens/stories/201206130131) is my source when I wrote "Blaine had read that this particular bird was not kept at the National Aviary".
> 
> Clara's labour complications are my own experiences. Blaine and Sebastian's anticipation of awaiting news, that part I worked with my husband and his experience when I was in the OT. All the medical jargon used are from my memory of when my obgyn was explaining all the details to my husband and I.
> 
> Thank you again for reading. Comments welcomed.


End file.
